The Norwegian Winter
by VanaVa
Summary: Norway stood atop of the hill, gazing down on the harbour bellow. The German ships was still loading, trying to get ready before the night and darkness once more fell over the small town of Narvik. The days were cold and short this time of the year. The Norwegian's eyes zeroed in on a particular blond figure aboard the ship. Germany.


**The Norwegian Winter**

Norway stood atop of the hill, gazing down on the harbour bellow. The German ships was still loading, trying to get ready before the night and darkness once more fell over the small town of Narvik. The days were cold and short this time of the year, so they had to work as quickly as possible to get ready in time. The Norwegian's eyes zeroed in on a particular blond figure aboard the ship. Germany. The nation was helping his countrymen load the Swedish iron ore.

The Norwegian could see his arrogance and naïveté in the young country's movements, the glee of a war he was so sure to win. Norway recognised it from his own youth, some 900 years ago. That had been at the peak of his glory. Feared by the southerners as he and his people took what they wanted, the way they wanted. His lands covering most of the North-Atlantic, stretching from his current lands, to the British Isles, to the great island of Greenland. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the soft steady waves underneath his longboat, feel the wind in the sails, smell the fresh scent of the ocean.

He opened his eyes once more. All of that was in the past, he had to remind himself. His reality was now. Being a small country at the edge of the world, poor with next to nothing to his name. When you were in such a situation, you had to take whatever you were given. Never mind that it came from the pocket of someone with such an ideology as Germany. Norway knew that the Frenchman and the Brit did not enjoy the fact that the Germans could buy the Scandinavian ore for their machines, but the Nordic nations had decided to stay neutral, just like they had in the last great war.

Still, one of them had already been dragged into the war. Norway's heart clenched at the thought of his Eastern neighbour; the blond he had come to think of as a brother. Now that the Finn had been forced to enter the war, who could be sure he himself could be safe? It was not unknown that the UK was ready to do nigh anything to win the wars.

Norway was woken from his deep thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind his back. He turned and met the bright blue eyes of the German. The Norwegian had to raise his head to be able to look the taller nation in the eyes.

"Ja?", he answered, wearing a strict mask hiding all thoughts he may have had in the moment. The German stood a little taller.

"I just wanted to say that we are leaving now, before the sun sets."

"Very well. Then I wish you and your sailors a safe trip south," the shorter nation answered politely, concentrating on keeping eye contact, rather than glancing at the red band around the German's arm. They shook hands before they went their separate ways in the dim January light, both wishing to get inside and find something warm to heat up their frozen bodies.

 **The 16** **th** **of February 1940**

Norway could feel his blood boil as he created _The Window of Sight_. It was cheap magic, but it was the fastest way to get in contact with that damned Brit.

" _Hva faen_ do you think you're doing?" the Norwegian exclaimed once the unclear picture of the green-eyed empire settled. The British nation's eyes narrowed.

"Hello to you too, Norway". He crossed his arms. "To what I think I am doing, well I think I retrieved something of mine from a country that I am currently at war with. "

"In _my_ waters!", the Norwegian tried to keep calm.

"299 British soldiers was aboard the Altmark. All I did was enter and retrieve my men. It was my fault that the Germans had decided to hide in one of your precious fjords.

"Now if you would excuse me, I have more important things to do than having this discussion with you".

England waved his hand, interrupting the magic before Norway could utter a single word. He clutched his hand, feeling a headache on its way. Those bloody southerners and their God-damned war. His parliament was almost complete chaos after the Brits had decided to board a German ship, Altmark, in one of the Norwegian fjords. The entire world was now watching him, questioning his neutrality.

Norway lifted his coffee cup and threw through the air. The sound of it breaking against the wall was oddly satisfying. He watched the pieces scatter over the floor, tumbling around. He bent down and picked one up, studied it. Small and sharp. He was careful as not to cut his finger on it. The blond could feel his once raging thoughts settle.

He knew that both the Brit and the Germans had their eyes on him, debating the pros against the cons of pulling him into the war. That was nothing new. However, now that it seemed to them that he had a hard time protecting his neutrality, the temptation could only be growing.

Norway sighed before he restored the cup to how it once was. If or when an attack came, he would deal with it. In the south he at least had some coverage from that loud Dane, and Eyebrows must have some decency left, despite their rugged history. And on the matter of the boat, there was little he could do now. O one hand, the Brits had violated his neutrality. But, on the other hand, the Germans weren't supposed to be the in the first place. At least not with prisoners of war.

Norway went over to the kitchen and filled the now not-broken cup with coffee. He hesitated before he also poured some akevitt into the cup as well. "It's going to be a long night" hi sighed, before he chugged the whole thing.


End file.
